


the start: a simple touch

by freloux



Series: something inside me came to life [2]
Category: Z-O-M-B-I-E-S (2018)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Edgeplay, F/M, Hand Jobs, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14197587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freloux/pseuds/freloux
Summary: Addison doesn’t want to be the one taking all the time. For once, she wants to give.





	the start: a simple touch

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Heartbeats" by The Knife.

Zed’s gotten unfairly good at cunnilingus. Addison wants to call it “eating her out” (c’mon, she’s overheard enough post-cheerleading practice locker room talk to know what that all means) but that just sounds uncomfortably close to the other thing that zombies are known for.

Anyway, yeah, it’s super distracting. Whenever they kiss, even if it’s just a stolen moment at school, Addison gets wet in like 5 seconds flat and Zed has to physically restrain himself from going down on her. _Especially_ if it’s a stolen moment at school. When they’re in Addison’s room, though, anything goes.

But it seems unfair on another level, too. Addison doesn’t want to be the one taking all the time. For once, she wants to give.

***

Giving proves itself to be more tricky than expected. He’s just cautious, always turning the other way if she reaches for him. Holding himself back with a mumbled excuse or gesture towards his Z-band. Once he physically ran and they didn’t talk for awhile after that.

Addison is frustrated. “Why won’t you let me touch you?” she asks one day while they’re lying on her bed, after. Zed tastes like her when they kiss and her underwear has migrated somewhere else.

He stops, sits back. “I thought we talked about it. The -”

“I know, I know,” Addison replies. She rolls her eyes. “The stupid fucking Z-band.”

She so rarely swears that Zed reels back like she just slapped him. “It bothers you that much?” he asks. “Addison, it’s for your protection. I’d never want to hurt you. I love you too much.”

He kisses her gently but she pulls away. “I’d never want to hurt you, either. I just - I love you, too, and I want to show that. In, y’know, a more...physical way.”

Addison puts her hand deliberately on his crotch. He’s so hard, always is after he goes down on her, and even though he insists it’s merely uncomfortable, that it’s ok, she senses he needs at least some kind of release, no matter how much he claims otherwise.

This time he doesn’t brush her hand away. “I’m not going to hurt you, ok?” Addison repeats. Without taking her eyes off him, she undoes the button of his jeans, tugs down the zipper, and finally reaches into his boxers to stroke his cock. Zed breathes out harshly and closes his eyes as if to shield himself and shrink back from the sensation. Addison holds him easily, runs her fingers over his veins, exploring as much as he’ll let her. He’s breathing harder now and full-on groans when she reaches the head. It almost kisses her wetly since the skin’s been pulled back to reveal an open slit that’s leaking pale, pearly liquid.

“Oh my god,” Zed whimpers. “Addison, I -”

His Z-band is starting to beep. Zed clenches his fingers, digging them into Addison’s bedspread. She squeezes him harder, pulling, until he takes her hand away from his cock. The move itself seems almost painful to him. Addison watches the screen of his Z-band flicker, giving some readout in Zombie that she can’t decipher. She can feel Zed’s half-heartbeat almost pound against hers until it, too, fades to normal along with the screen, which now reads the usual _Online._

Zed kisses her as an apology but she still feels like crying.

***

“Can I ask you something?” Addison asks the next day. She leans against her locker, trying to look like the picture of extreme casualness, but her limbs feel so stiff from the effort that she probably comes off more like a statue. Or a zombie as the case may be.

Zed looks at her with an unreadable expression. “Yeah?” He sounds skeptical.

“What if -” She drops her voice and looks around her to check for eavesdroppers. It’s a typical day at Seabrook, so the constant crowd of cheerleaders and the seemingly endless number of other cliques, large and small, just flows on around them. They’re safe, for now. “What if it wasn’t me, um, touching you. What if you touched yourself instead,” she continues, all in a rush. “For me,” she adds, since she wants to see it, she doesn’t really want to know what he gets up to on his own (although the very thought kind of turns her on, like he touches himself thinking about her).

He looks down at his feet. “I, um, we can try?” His voice comes out as a squeak until he clears his throat. “Yeah. We can try.” This time his voice is deeper, more confident, and ok that really turns her on. Zed can probably tell - heightened sense of smell and all that - because his eyes get big and dark and he just looks so hungry. Addison wants to skip class right then and there, let him go down on her in some empty corner of school - he’d get so into it, hair completely messed up, hands tight on her hips, making her moan - but she somehow manages to control it. Instead, she just kisses his cheek and whispers that she’ll see him later.

***

The doorbell rings after school. Addison smooths out her hair and tries to control her heartbeat, even though it’s pounding so hard that it feels like it’s not just her heart, but her whole body instead. She answers the door and pretends not to be surprised that it’s Zed standing outside.

The only thing that does surprise her is that he’s holding a bouquet of flowers. Real, live ones, so he must’ve gone to the trouble of visiting a Seabrook florist instead of a Zombieland one. He smiles shyly and hands over the flowers. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Addison says, after pretending to give it some thought. She closes the door behind them and heads to the kitchen to put the flowers in water.

Zed follows. She can feel him behind her at the sink, this solid presence at her back. He puts his arms around her and kisses her neck. “No fair,” she stutters. Addison almost spills the water out of the vase. “This is about _you_ , remember?”

“Right.” He pulls away and swallows. “Right.”

Addison turns to face him, the flower vase in one hand. “Remember, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know.” He doesn’t meet her eyes.

She walks up the stairs to her room. Her heartbeat is speeding up again. Addison can picture it - has pictured it - the way he’d look holding himself in front of her. She tries to set that aside, tries to let go of her expectations, but she’s wanted this, wanted him, for so goddamn long.

The flowers look so normal on her desk it’s almost ridiculous.

“So how should we start?” Zed asks from the doorway. Addison looks over at him. He’s pulling the same move she tried at school earlier, just leaning casually, except on him it looks natural since his joints kind of move that way anyway.

“However you want.” Open invitation. _This is about you, remember?_

Zed crosses the room to sit on her bed. A familiar motion. It makes her feel safe, and it must make him feel the same way because he beckons her towards him. This time Zed takes the lead and it’s the most thrilling kind of role reversal. He’s the one to kiss, to hold onto her, to move his lips against hers insistently. It’s like he’s asking a question with each kiss. She answers just as gently.

His hands are shaking. She wants to point that out but doesn’t.

Zed pulls away just enough to work himself free from his boxers, his jeans. “I’m gonna. Um. I’m gonna try, ok?”

His cock is blushing pink to dark, overheated red at the base. He’s wanted this for just as long as she has. Zed tilts slowly back onto the bed, almost crab-walking so that he’s lying propped up on her pillows. Addison watches him, watches his cock sway as he moves until he’s settled himself and takes hold of his cock again to steady it.

It starts with the deepest moan. Zed touches himself carefully like it’s the very first time, as if everything he’s waited for is here at last. He traces his veins, rubs his fingers upwards to explore and pinch the head. Little trickles of that almost-translucent fluid are starting to leak out, dripping over the back of his hand.

He sighs her name and Addison wants more than anything to touch him, to touch herself while this happens. But she knows she can’t - if she did, this little soap bubble connection would just go ahead and burst.

They stay like that, watching each other, until the Z-band starts buzzing again and Zed jerks his hand away from himself, breathing hard.

***

It’s dark and dizzying. Addison is distracted all the time. Memories blooming into thick heat: the way his hand moved, the look on his face. She wants to understand what the Z-band does, why it’s ruining everything.

Addison walks to the library to find Zed since she knows he hangs out there during study period. He’s the only zombie she can ask about this, after all. Couldn’t be, like, _hey, Eliza, I’m trying to have sex with your best friend! Can you help me figure out what’s cock-blocking us?_

She blushes at the mere idea.

Zed’s hunched over one of the tables in the corner just like usual. Addison reaches out to put her hand on his shoulder, trying to be soothing, but he flinches at the touch.

“You scared me,” Zed says, looking up at her. “That’s supposed to be my job.”

Neither of them laugh. Addison takes hold of his wrist, feeling where his not-quite-pulse flutters there delicately, and runs her fingers up the underside towards the Z-band. Zed swallows. “What are you doing, Addison?”

“Why is this - why does it interfere with -” Addison can’t bring herself to finish the sentence. Besides, he knows the question anyway.

Zed lets her keep holding onto him. It’s almost like - almost like she’s actually stroking him, and the sense-memory of what his cock felt like in her hand is so visceral it nearly hurts. The Z-band is cool, soothing metal, a counterpoint to her overheated skin, her throbbing fingertips, her heartbeat. Its tiny screen reads the reassuring _Online!_ and the device itself emits a faint hum. The electromagnetic field that keeps her, and Zed, and everyone else safe from harm.

“Don’t turn it off,” Zed says. His hands are shaking again.

Addison glances at him. “You really think I would?”

“I just want to know what you’re doing,” he replies, defensive.

She sighs. “I’m trying to figure out why it’s interfering with you. With us,” Addison amends hastily, noticing how Zed looks like she’s punched him.

“It keeps me human,” Zed explains. “Maybe having sex is too human for it.”

Addison hadn’t considered that. “Is it because you’re scared?” she asks.

There, she’s said it. Out in the open. No turning back now. Zed swallows hard and takes his wrist out of her hand. “I have to get back to studying, ok?”

***

She doesn’t want to push him farther than he’s willing to go, but she’s aching now. She wants to feel him, not just watch him. Take him in her hand again. She doesn’t know where to start.

So she and Zed exist in separate timelines now instead, waving across the hallway and sometimes not even that. Addison throws herself into cheer practice. The adrenaline takes her mind off it. A positive rush, energy focused towards a specific end.

She doesn’t expect the flowers: the rose petals that appear in her locker, the bouquets on her doorstep. At first they have no name attached, then, since he’s obviously growing bolder over time, Zed starts signing the cards. _Z_ , then _Zed_ , then _I’m sorry_.

***

“I’m ready to try again,” Zed says. They’re standing by Addison’s locker, just like before, as if everything was just leading back to this.

“Try what.” She wants to make him say it.

Zed takes a breath. “I want you to touch me.”

“How?” She knows she’s almost crossing a line and doesn’t care. “Tell me how you want me to touch you.”

He crosses his arms over his chest like he’s trying to ward off the truth. It drags itself from some deep place inside him until his voice comes out so horny-dark Addison almost swoons. “I want you to stroke me until I’m begging for it, I want you to make me come, I want - I want you, Addison, kissing me, your hand on my cock, squeezing.” He pauses and looks at her intently. “Please.”

***

She’s imagined it a hundred times before, maybe double that (or, let’s be real, triple). Fantasy crunches into reality when Zed is finally in her room, finally taking his clothes off, finally letting her touch him for real.

The head of his cock is leaking, wet, the skin sliding over and back, over and back, like it’s a part of him that’s alive and capable of being hurt. She’d never want to hurt him, of course, and has told him as much, but the way he’s reacting makes her feel scared that she could. His mouth is open and all he seems capable of doing is just letting her move, squeezing him, just like he asked for. Sticky, milky-white fluid wells up, out of the head and down over her hand, everything he has to give, everything he - she - they want. Addison tugs hard and he whines, coming so hard he’s moaning her name almost in time to her own fierce heartbeat. The Z-band stays quiet except for its even hum, no notifications to take them away from this.

He doesn’t ask her to stop. She’s not sure she could, even if she wanted to. Addison is carried along in this, all his thick blurts of come soaking his stomach, almost on her sheets. She doesn’t care about the mess. She’s focused on stroking out the last of it, seeing just how much he has.

Addison takes her hand away slowly, carefully, when he gasps and his cock sinks low in her grasp, softening after the overexertion.

She kisses him, bracing her hands against him so she doesn’t get him any more sticky than he already is and for once, he kisses back.


End file.
